


Desperation and Fear Leads to People Doing Very Stupid Things

by RedTigerRose



Series: Writing Prompts [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Anger, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blood Mages, Clothed Sex, Comfort Sex, Cullen Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Headcanon, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Kirkwall (Dragon Age), Mages and Templars, Mages vs. Templars, Mild Smut, My First Smut, One Night Stands, Purple Hawke, Regret, Sided with Mages, Writing Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 11:13:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14448090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedTigerRose/pseuds/RedTigerRose
Summary: Writing Prompt:"Desperation and fear leads to people doing very stupid things. Do not be so quick to judge."Hawke visits Cullen to discuss Anders.





	Desperation and Fear Leads to People Doing Very Stupid Things

**Author's Note:**

> I've never done anything remotely smutty before. It's still quite tame, however :)
> 
> Also, I realized just today through my headcanon that Cullen gets the Holy Trinity. Who knew?

Sitting up late at the table and working by the flickering candlelight in his private quarters had become the usual routine for knight-captain Cullen Rutherford these days. Working under knight-commander Meredith meant that there was little time for much else other than getting the job done, and that included sleep.

He liked to believe that Meredith was working for something higher, better, than what had been. He knew that precautionary measures were needed; and yet, a deep seeded doubt was growing inside his chest. He had joined the Templar order to help make the world a better place, to protect the people. And be damned if he wasn’t trying. But there were whispers that Meredith was going too far, that she had lost her grasp on reality. He had always had respect for his superior, and now it was beginning to crumble.

Mages were becoming Tranquil by the dozens now, it seemed. He had known a few tranquil from his time at Kinloch Hold, but now it seemed as though there were more tranquil than not these days, their dead eyes following him as he passed through the halls. And he was starting to question the reasons behind Meredith ordering so many mages to undergo the rite of tranquility; it seemed as though any who created so much as a ripple were ordered to it without a second thought. Using tranquility as a weapon… he didn’t want to think about it. He was too tired. An ache was starting to spread across his brow as the candle flickered, the small flame warding off the darkness.

There was a gentle rapping on his window, and he closed his eyes in frustration.

_Not tonight, dammit._

He opened his eyes and turned to the small window, where a pale face was peering inside. He slowly got up from the rickety old chair and made his way over, undoing the latch and letting the woman climb in from the ledge outside.

“One of these days you’re going to fall and break your neck,” he said as Marian Hawke shouldered off her light cloak, revealing a simple knee-length robe and boots underneath. She looked out of place without her armor, but then, he thought, recent events were making her wish to blend in. She made her way straight to the cabinet, where she knew Cullen kept a bottle of aged whiskey. Wordlessly she poured two glasses, then took a big swig straight from the bottle.

Cullen lowered himself on the couch near the window as she put the bottle of whiskey back in the cabinet and turned on her heel with both glasses. Her hair was longer than when he had first met her, so many years ago now. She usually wore it up in a ponytail but tonight it was around her shoulders like a dark widows’ hood. He grimaced internally at the irony of that thought.

  
Taking the glass of dark liquid he took a sip, relishing from the burn as it went down his throat.

“I assume you know why I’m here,” she said finally, after settling down on the couch next to him.

“I can guess,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, which was stiff from pouring over reports all evening.

He glanced at her face, which had once been so clear but had aged significantly in the last couple of years. Worry lines had appeared around her blue eyes, which were darkened with pain. She didn’t say anything, but took another sip of her whiskey, closing her eyes against the burn.

“You know I would stop it if I could - ”

“No you wouldn’t,” said Hawke, her voice icy.

They sat in silence for a few moments, the candlelight shifting the shadows about them. He had come to respect Hawke a great deal. She had helped him and the templars out a great deal, weeding out the blood mages that had popped up around Kirkwall in recent years. She had the freedom to use not-so-conventional ways that he did not, and she had many friends in the seedy underbelly of the city that he did not have access to.

In return, he had supplied her with gold to help her support her family, and was able to give her some level of protection for her mage friends. Whether it was turning a blind eye from magic being used to obtain runaway apostates or giving her a heads up when a raid was about to happen where her friends were holed up, he was able to help. He was even willing to pull some strings and get her younger brother, Carver, a place with the Templars until an incident in the Deep Roads led to Carver joining the Grey Wardens instead.

“Hawke,” he finally said. “I can turn away from many things, but I’m getting far too many reports about Anders lately. If he is truly an abomination, you know I can’t - ”

“I have him under control,” she said sharply.

“Are you sure?”

She glared at him. “He’s not possessed by a demon,” she said. “I have him under control.”

“You said that.”

She took another sip of her whiskey. “You need to trust me.”

“I do trust you,” Cullen said, turning towards her. “I don’t trust him. And I think you’re getting in above your head with this one - ”

She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again, staring at a spot on the floor in front of her.

“Love has blinded you, Hawke.” She looked at him, her eyebrows raised. “I know that you're - um - involved with him.”

“Do you now?” she scoffed.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he said, leaning back on the couch.

She chewed her lip thoughtfully. “Maybe love has blinded you too.”

“W-what?” said Cullen. A flash of a memory passed his mind. Red hair against a darkened pillow. His name gasped into his ear. He closed his eyes briefly against it. “What are you talking about?”

“The almighty bitch,” said Hawke, a ghost of a smirk passing on her lips. “Meredith, of course.”

“I’m not in - ” Cullen spluttered. “She is my superior. I respect her.”

“Mm-hmm,” said Hawke, taking another sip from her glass.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Cullen, frowning.

“Are you pouting, captain?” said Hawke.

“You have the wrong idea,” he said. “I respect what she is doing. I have seen the evil that mages can become - can do. I watched my friends die at the hands of blood mages.” He rubbed at his wrist absent-mindedly, where Uldred had once run a dagger and drawn blood to power the cage that Cullen was trapped inside at Kinloch Hold. “Mages are too power-hungry, too dangerous. They aren’t like you or me - ”

He paused, as a flicker of an emotion crossed Hawke’s face, although he couldn’t read it.

“They must be controlled,” he said finally.

“But Meredith is too much in control,” said Hawke. “She’s passing the rite of tranquility like she passes gas and I know she’s killing them, Cullen. You can’t cover for her forever.”

“I’m not - I’ve never covered for her,” he said, feeling his cheeks reddening. “She’s trying to do the right thing. With the viscount being dead there is no one to take charge. Someone had to step up and take responsibility for this shit-hole - ”

Hawke’s eyes widened. “Did you just swear, knight-captain?”

“People are dying every day at the hands of blood mages - ”

“Believe me, I know,” Hawke said sadly. Her mother’s funeral had been a couple of months ago.

_Maker’s breath, I’m an arsehole._

Hawke tossed back the rest of her whiskey, then held out the empty glass to Cullen. “Top me up.”

He took the glass and got to his feet, making his way to the cabinet. “I’m truly sorry about what happened to Leandra,” he said as he poured more whiskey into the glass. “Meredith is trying to prevent more deaths similar to hers, Hawke. You must see it from her side.”

He handed her the refilled drink, standing above her. She took another sip but continued to stare at a spot above his knee. “Meredith is scared - we all are. Times are desperate - ”

“She’s doing a lot of stupid things,” said Hawke, not looking at him.

“Desperation and fear lead people to do very stupid things. Do not be so quick to judge.”

She looked up at him. “I could say the same thing to you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Hawke sighed. “I’m not saying that turning to blood magic is the right thing at all, but the oppression the mages are feeling from the templars is real. I try to reason with the mages as much as I possibly can, but I need the templars to not be the evil entity that they think you are.”

“It’s a two-way street,” he said slowly.

“That it is,” she gently put her glass on the floor, covering her face with her hands. “Fuck.”

Cullen slowly sat down on the couch next to her, watching her slowly. He realized she was crying and reached out to push her hair behind her ear.

“I’m just so fucking sick of this,” she blurted. Tears were now streaming down her cheeks as she leaned back, pushing her hair from her face. “I’m trying to find some even ground and no one is working with me.” She started to sob.

Cullen realized that he had never really seen Hawke show any emotion before. She had always been calm and collected, sarcastic and witty, never batting an eye at a rude retort or flying arrow. It was hard to imagine her as the same person sitting in front of him now, crying and shaking as it all came out.

Her mother dead, and Hawke had been the one to find her. Her brother was gone, to Maker knows where. The viscount dead, the streets still recovering from the Qunari dead, and blood mages running amok. And now, she was facing the reality that her lover was dangerous and about to be taken away.

“Just once, just fucking once, can something go right,” she sobbed. “I try to be fair, I try to be a good person, but it’s just so fucking hard.”

He didn’t say anything but put a comforting hand on her back. She leaned into him, letting herself be cradled.

“I worked so fucking hard to get my mother’s family home back, and I lost my brother in the process. He didn’t want to go but I made him. He was dying - I try to make deals with the Qunari but Isabela - fucking Isabela had to be the one that stole something and I had to make that right too. People still - still died - ”

He pushed a hand through her hair as she sobbed some more. It was all coming out now, he knew. And he knew that she hadn’t confided this is anyone before.

“I love him so much,” she said softly. “He’s a tortured soul, but I know he’s good. Deep down, he’s so good. If you could only see how he reacts to blood magic, you would understand what I see in him.”

Cullen stroked her hair, cradling her as she cried. He still had his glass in his other hand, and he quickly drained the contents. He had been in love with a mage once. It hadn’t ended well then, either. He felt the dull ache in his chest, the wounds of a broken heart that would never heal.

He had wanted to write a letter to Lexa Amell, once. Begging for forgiveness for the things he had said to her, for the way he had treated her. To confess his love for her, still, after all this time. He still had nightmares about the things he had seen at Kinloch Hold, but time and maturity had cleared up one thing for him - Lexa was not to blame. She had gone on to defeat the Archdemon and thus end the Blight, saving the people of Ferelden. She was a hero.

But then, he had heard from Hawke - who he later found out was a distant cousin of Lexa’s - that she had married her fellow Grey Warden, Alistair. Although the cousins had never met, they had kept in some sort of contact through letters. Something that Leandra had encouraged in her children from a young age, in a way to keep a firm grip on what was left of her divided family.

“Everything has gone to shit,” Hawke said finally.

“Where is Anders now?”

“Honestly, I have no idea,” said Hawke, pulling away from him and reaching for her drink. She took a big gulp, closing her eyes and wincing. “He’s never home anymore. Always off doing Maker knows what, and I can never find him. I used to think he was back at the clinic, but no one down there has seen him in weeks.” She sighed sadly. “He won’t talk to me. When I do see him, he’s distracted.”

“Why do you put yourself out for him?” said Cullen, looking concerned. “You’re bending over backward to keep him safe and he can’t even tell you where he goes or what he does?”

She shrugged, then her face screwed up as though in pain. More tears started to fall. “I used to never believe in love or any of that soppy shit,” she said. “I kept my distance from everyone romantically. Why the fuck did I fall in love with the defective one?” She lowered her head back into Cullen’s chest as her shoulders racked with more sobs. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“No, you’re not,” said Cullen, stroking her hair again.

She reached her hands up from his chest and cupped his face, and before he knew it her lips were smashed against his. He didn’t pull away, tasting the salt from her tears, her cheeks wetting his face.

“What are you doing?” he said against her lips.

“Fuck if I know,” she said through tears, teeth grazing his lower lip. She climbed up into his lap, straddling him, and his own body betrayed him through his loose breeches as she ground herself against him.

He knew he should have pushed her off, but his own aching loneliness got the better of him. His fingers trailed down her back and to her legs, running up her thighs and pausing at the hem of. her robe. Her tongue flicked his as she reached down and undid the front of his breeches.

She paused, breathless, her forehead against his. Tears were still streaked down her face, and for a moment Cullen thought she would stop. But instead, she nuzzled into his neck, nipping at the skin. He gasped, feeling a flush rise from his belly to his face as she pulled the hem of her robe up around her waist and he lifted his pelvis and pulled his breeches down.

His fingers dug into her hips as she lifted herself and covered him, sliding herself down against him with a moan. Her hands wrapped around his neck as she started to ride him, fingers grasping at his hair and pulling. Her eyes stayed closed and her face softened as she picked up momentum, and he held onto her as though she was the only thing helping him keep control.

Throwing her head back and crying out she climaxed, and he held onto her hips and bucked inside her as she fell against him, breathing heavily into his ear.

“Cullen…” she whispered breathlessly, and she leaned back as he came, her eyes open and on his, so bright and blue and so like hers…

She stayed perched in his lap for a time, foreheads resting together as their panting slowed. Eventually, she climbed off of him and sat back on the couch, regarding him as he pulled his breeches back up, suddenly shy. They were both still fully clothed, all things considered.

“Well, that’s going to complicate things,” she said, chewing her lip.

“I - 'm sorry - ” stammered Cullen.

“I believe I came onto you,” she said. “I’m sorry. I - I should go - ”

As Hawke got up and finished off the contents of her glass, Cullen grabbed her cloak from where she had left it on the floor. In some strange last-ditch attempt to act the gentleman, he put it around her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she said. “For - for everything…for listening.”

Cullen regarded her thoughtfully. “I’ll try and stall,” he said.

She was making her way back to the window but paused at his words. “What?”

“The raid on your house. For Anders. I’ll try and stall, but promise me you’ll try to get him somewhere safe.”

“I’ll try,” she said, a ghost of a smile spreading across her face as she opened the window. “Thank you, Cullen.”

And she was gone.

Cullen sat back down on his couch, rubbing the back of his neck.

_What the fuck just happened?_


End file.
